Still Just a Mundane
by RoisinChubs
Summary: ***CoHF SPOILERS*** Simon Lewis is disoriented and confused and so very sure that there is something vital missing from his life. Worse still, his dreams are haunted by vampires and demons and a beautiful dark eyed girl who just seems so real. But she can't be can she?
1. Prologue

**I love writing about Simon. What happened at the end of CoHF killed me, and I had an itching feeling to start a fic about his mental state after the memory loss. I know there are a lot of references to the guys but I just feel like the people he loved that much couldn't have been that easy to wipe away from his memory completely. This will consist of a few chapters, not sure how many yet, and will bring us all the way up to the wedding. **

Simon woke, gasping. He tried desperately to cling to the images that had just been spiraling through his dreams. He caught a flash of flame red hair and blue sparks, the crack of a whip and a pair of devastated black-brown eyes. He remembered a fierce, desperate need to protect the people that had stood beside him, but he simply couldn't remember why they needed saving or even conjure the faces of those he was so prepared to die for.

Groggily, he sat up. His hands were shaking, and he felt nauseous. Just a dream. He told himself. He couldn't fathom why it had him so shaken, all he knew was that he felt ... Wrong. Empty.

_Pull yourself together, Lewis. Don't be such a crybaby._

He hauled himself out of bed and got dressed. His Made In Brooklyn t-shirt was strewn over a chair, looking at it brought back the nausea. He remembered buying it with... again a flash of red curls clouded the memory, green eyes laughing at him as he showed her ... him. Eric. He knew it was Eric because he distinctly remembered going to one of his terrible poetry readings after buying it. He sighed. Weird.

_You're stressed, that's all. School's a drag, and you still haven't found a lead singer for the band.. let alone a half decent name._

For some reason these typical teenage dilemmas weren't really daunting to him at all... to be honest they seemed, well, pretty mundane.

_This'll pass, Simon._

It didn't.

He felt a bit punch drunk for days. Occasionally he would get flashes of something, some murky memory that he passed off as a dream. Once he even demanded from his mother where the painting that used to hang above the fireplace went. He was sure it had been a gift from an old friend ... She had looked at him like he was mad and told him that the huge gilt mirror had always been there.

Every time he managed to get through a day in a normal fashion, he would be side swept by that horrible empty feeling, like something huge was missing from his life. He accidentally ordered two coffees while at another vile poetry reading in Java Jones, and even turned to make a hilarious comment about Eric's use of the word 'loins' _again_, before realising with a jolt that, of course, no one was sat beside him.

Familiar figures still haunted his dreams. A beautiful, fierce girl with a curtain of black hair demanded that he "remember." A golden haired boy sneered at him "come on mundane, she needs you."

For some reason the word mundane grated him. He would wake in a cold sweat, a desperate longing to be somewhere else, but for the life of him, he had no clue where that might be.

He started to wonder if this is what going mad felt like.


	2. Nightmares

**Nightmares - January 2008**

"Dude, what is with you lately?"

"Yeah, you look like hell man."

Ah, the concerned friends inquisition. Simon had been expecting this; He was actually suprised that it had taken them so long. He hadn't been sleeping for over a week. Well, he supposed he had slept, it had just been restless.

Both Eric and Kirk were looking at him with an expression of concern mingled with slight apprehension, taking in his sleep rumpled clothes and circled eyes. He had crashed in his jeans and tatty shirt the night before and had ended up oversleeping. He didn't really have the time or energy to change for school.

It was Wednesday, band practice night, so naturally they were sprawled on the tattered sofa discussing school and girls and other trivial things. No wonder the band sucked.

"Oh nothing, really." Simon replied. "Just school stress I guess, I have piles of homework from Mrs. James." He purposefully mentioned Eric's absolute least favourite teacher in a hope to set him off. He wasn't disappointed as Eric started on a tirade of epic proportions about how much of an "evil hag" she was.

The truth was, Simon was not worried about school at all, but he didn't think his friends would understand that high school just felt pointless to him now, and he knew they would definitely think he had lost it if he told them about the nightmares.

He could deal with the ones about terrifying creatures that lurked in the dark alleys of New York City. They were nothing on the gut wrenching, heart breaking dreams of the beautiful black haired girl begging him to remember her. Those dreams had him jerking awake with tears on his cheeks and a forgotten name stuck in his throat.

After spending the next two hours in a similar state, the boys decided to call it a day and head home. They had been hanging around purposefully longer than usual in the hopes that someone would answer the flyers they had put up about needing a lead singer. Simon didn't know why this made him feel so sad. No one had come, and the others were all pretty dejected about it. Single file, they trudged out the garage door, murmuring forlorn goodbyes as they went.

Simon hung back to help Eric pack up, before heading home himself. He was finding it more and more difficult to be alone. The more often he was on his own, the more time he had to dwell on his current state of feeling lost, and that led to him desperately trying to remember something so beyond his grasp that his head hurt and his eyes swam.

At home was even worse. He fidgeted at his desk, attempting in vain to focus on his math homework. His fingers drummed on the wooden surface, his mind straying to the black haired girl from his dreams. Thinking about her hurt, and shaking his head, he abandoned the sheet of unfinished problems, grabbed his coat from the hallway stand and after shouting to his mother that he was going for a walk around the block, bolted through the front door.

The chill of the January evening helped some. The fog of memories that were choking his brain dissipated a little and he leaned against the cold brick of his house and closed his eyes.

That was no good.

There she was, her beautiful face etched with pain was seared onto the back of his eyelids. Sighing in frustration, he kicked away from the wall and stalked into the night.

Part of him was whispering that he shouldn't be wandering around Brooklyn in the middle of the night, but a more dominant part of him wasn't afraid at all. The darkness was welcoming, comfortable even. He vaguely registered that the feeling of ease that enveloped him as he walked wasn't normal, but he was too worked up to care.

He walked for hours, not particularly knowing or caring about his destination. He passed nightclub after nightclub, bar after bar, ignoring everyone and everything he passed. Finally, jut after midnight something caught his eye and he came to an abrupt halt.

A neon sign hanging directly above him, naming the club directly to his left.

_Pandemonium._

The whole place felt familiar, right down to the bouncer on the door and the strangely dressed people in the queue.

Without really thinking about it, he turned on his heel and joined the end of it, dialing a number into his phone as he went.

**So what do you think? Who is Simon calling? What will he witness in the club? I know this chapter is a bit short, and very late, but they will increase as the story moves on, and I will get better at updating, reviews and the like will help that along. Hope you enjoyed. **

**xoxo **


	3. Ghosts of Pandemonium

**AN:** _So here it is the much awaited next chapter, thank you for all your comments likes follows etc. Hearing from you guys makes me want to post more, so yeah, _

_Enjoy this and let me know what you think. _

_RM_

Eric was on his way. How Simon had managed to entice him to come to the all ages club, on a Wednesday in the middle of the night, was beyond him. Maybe he sounded desperate, or hysterical, or both. Either way, Eric said he'd be there in 10 and hung up.

Pandemonium was weird and crazy and so not Simon Lewis' scene, at least not the Simon Lewis his friends and family knew. Leather clad individuals with neon dyed hair clogged up the dance floor, and the whole place had an Adam Lambert music video vibe. Yet, despite his obvious "I stick out like a sore thumb" look, Simon hadn't felt more at ease with himself since the nightmare's had started. An intense sense of belonging flooded over him the moment he entered the room.

The only thing that did cause some anxiety, was that not five minutes after he walked in, almost every single eye in the place had been trained on him at some point. Murmurs of 'Daylighter' rippled around him as he moved through the crowd. One or two girls with (very) realistic vampire fangs waved a showed up at every gig he had ever played. At least she had used to... actually now he thought about it, he hadn't seen Maureen at any of Stink Pigeon's recent shows. A jolt that almost felt like guilt shot through him and then the sickening, gut wrenching emptiness returned in full force, bursting the comfortable bubble of warmth an belonging that he had wrapped himself in since he arrived.

"Oh no..." He moaned, before sprinting to the toilet.

He only just made it to the graffiti ridden cubicle in time, before vomiting spectacularly into the bowl.

Finally emerging, Simon stumbled towards the sinks to rinse his mouth out, and nearly fell into a pretty girl with curly gold brown hair. The look she threw him was both amused and sympathetic, and perhaps a little familiar. Simon felt a twinge of recognition for her almost immediately.

"This is the girls bathroom." She stated, folding her arms across her chest.

"I... I'm so sorry, I was in a rush.."

"I noticed," She retorted with a smirk.

Then her face contorted slightly; she seemed to be considering something. Then almost as quickly, it was replaced with a look of determination.

"I'm here with my boyfriend," She stated with a small smile. "He's the DJ... Bat." She seemed to be watching him carefully as if he might snap, or pass out ... or _something_.

"He's doing a singularly exceptional job," The words tumbled out of Simon's mouth before he could even comprehend what he was saying. They tasted bitter. Or maybe that was just the vomit.

_Jesus, Lewis. Stop psyching yourself out._

"And a few friends too," She carried on as if he hadn't spoken, "... the Lightwoods?"

"Can't say I know them." He replied with a shrug, although his mind began to whisper to him again.

_Are you sure? _

He pushed the confusing thought away.

_Stop it, Lewis. Just stop it. You're fine._

The girl's face fell.

"I'm sorry." She murmured, reaching out to lightly touch his cheek, then she smiled slightly. "I'm not used to seeing you with glasses," She murmured with a small chuckle, and turned to go.

"What...?" Simon moved to stop her, but she had already disappeared through the bathroom door and into the throng of people outside.

Feeling utterly muddled, Simon returned to the club.

When he re-entered, calm settled over him as he allowed the heavy beat to wrack his body. He stood like that for a few moments with his eyes half shut, wondering whether a hallucinogenic had been pumped through the ventilation to mellow people out, when a hand shot through the dry ice and grabbed his shoulder from behind.

Alarmed, Simon spun to encounter a very disgruntled, very uncomfortable looking Eric. Huh. No anti-anxiety drug vapor then.

"Earth to Simon. What the hell is going on!?"

* * *

"Your mom called." The other boy spoke matter of factually, but his gaze was slightly accusatory.

They had moved to a far corner, after buying a couple of drinks, and were propped up against a cold brick wall. Eric had his arms crossed tightly in front of him, covering the batman logo on his shirt. He probably looked even more out of place here than Simon did.

"What did you tell her?" Simon asked quietly.

"That you showed up at my house with some homework you were stuck on and were currently asleep on my couch after crashing from a caffeine high. She told me she was coming to get you 'immediately'." He raised his hands to for quotation marks, while rolling his eyes. "I told her not to worry, you were just tired and that I'd bring you to school. she seemed to buy it. Just means your coming back to mine after you've gotten this weirdo place out of your system. Cool?" He waved his hand at their surroundings.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Don't mention it. You've had to do worse for me, I guess."

As Eric muttered these words, three figures emerged through a door on the far side of the dance floor clearly labelled 'Keep Out.' Each wore thick black leather garments that were completely familiar and absolutely alien at the same time, their arms and necks were laced with thick black tattoos, and all three were incredibly well armed. The shorter of the two boys, who had golden hair reminiscent of a lion's mane, was laughing as he slung his arm around a tiny red head girl.

Looking at her pricked at Simon's skin and accelerated his heart beat.

"Hey, Eric. Look at those people, do you recognize any of them .. from school maybe?"

"Where?"

"Over there by the storage closet."

"What are you on about, Simon. There's no one by the storage closet."

"Don't be stupid. They're right there."

Simon insistently shook his pointed finger at the strange people, as they leaned against the opposite wall. The yellow haired boy seemed to be looking for someone now, his eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk would search for a rabbit among the undergrowth.

His eyes lit up as they fell on something to the far right of Simon, and he nudged the other boy, head nodding slightly towards whatever it was. Gracefully, the group surged forwards into a slight but distinct arrow head formation, and sarted across the body packed floor.

He watched the three teenagers weave through the crowd, what with their swirling tattoos and black leather outfits, and together with Eric's persistent claim that he still couldn't see them, Simon was nearly bowled over by de ja vu, that coursed through his body and exploded in his mind. All of a sudden the atmosphere in the club, that had moments ago felt so warm and comforting, instantly became too hot, too close, too familiar.

Turning away from the apparitions across the room and ignoring Eric's cries of surprise, Simon fled. Bursting through the doors, he immediately vomited again. This time onto the dirty concrete of a back alley.

"Stupid kid." muttered the bouncer, apparently assuming he was drunk, or worse.

Eric sprinted out then, slightly frantic. Upon seeing his best friend doubled over and shivering in the alley, his expression slipped to one of extreme concern. This was getting way out of hand.

"Dude,_ what_ has gotten _into_ you recently?"

Simon shook his head. "Nothing good."

"Are you like, doing drugs or something?"

Simon let out a frustrated bark of laughter. "I wish I was. At least that would explain the hallucinations."`

"Jesus. Maybe school really has cracked you. Come on. You need to get home. If I get one more frantic call from your mom, I swear I'll cave and tell her everything."

"You wouldn't." Simon muttered darkly.

"Try me, Lewis. This behavior just isn't normal."

And with that he slung Simon's arm around his shoulder and helped him out onto the street, letting him rest his full weight onto his side.

Eric was worried about him, extremely 'My friend might need to be institutionalized' kind of worried. That much was evident from the way he watched Simon as he climbed into his van.

Simon hesitated as he wrenched the door open. Cloudy memories of blood smeared seats clogged his mind, and screams of terror and pain ripped through him like an electric current. He knew Eric noticed. Forcing down yet more bile, Simon clambered in.

So his friend thought he was going mad.

Maybe Simon agreed with him.


End file.
